Tale Teller Club Music: The Rat Gang Crew and the Overgrounders, Chapter 8: Atlas and the Rat Biker Crew

Chapter 8: Atlas and the Rat Biker Crew

The Rat Gang Crew sat in The Burrow, still abuzz with Amelie’s successful mission. The humans’ protest was growing stronger, but the construction company wasn’t backing down. And there was a big court case coming up to stop the protests and continue the devastating build.
Ivy stared at her rubbings of the ancient carvings, her brow furrowed.

“We need to buy more time,” she said. "But I am pretty sure I will work this out in a few days. I just need a bit more time to decode the ciphers."

Scarlett crossed her arms. She looked as if she was about to cry. “Time isn’t exactly on our side, Ivy. The humans could start digging again any day now."

Everyone gathered around Scarlett. She had worked so hard but things were getting on top of her now, being the oldest.

Amelie nodded. “We need another stall, just for a few days till the court case. A distraction. Something big enough to stall them.”

“I might know someone who can help,” he said, a sly grin spreading across his face.

All eyes turned to Atlas, who had been quiet up until now. He leaned back against the wall, his tail flicking lazily.

Scarlett’s ears perked up. “Who?”

Atlas shrugged nonchalantly. “The Rat Biker Crew.”

The room went silent. Ivy’s eyes widened. “The Rat Biker Crew? Those vandals?”

“They’re not vandals,” Atlas corrected, sitting up straight. “They’re artists. And they’re legends. But anyway, they know how to create waves and stay under the radar overground.

Scarlett snorted. “Yeah, and they’re also impossible to work with. They don’t follow anyone’s rules.”

“Exactly,” Atlas said, his grin widening. “That’s why they’re perfect.”

The Rat Biker Crew operated out of the old subway tunnels beneath the city. Their hideout was a neon-lit cavern filled with graffiti murals, the smell of oil and paint hanging thick in the air. Rats in leather jackets milled about, their tiny motorbikes parked in rows along the walls.

Atlas strode confidently into the hideout, the Rat Gang Crew trailing behind him. He was greeted with a mix of cheers and suspicious glances.

“Atlas, you sly rat!” boomed a burly rat named Diesel, the leader of the crew. His jacket was patched with a flaming skull insignia, and his ears were tattooed and pierced with tiny silver rings. “What brings you to our turf?”

Atlas grinned and clasped Diesel’s paw in a firm shake, a fist bump, and a heart thump.

"Oh goodness whispered Amelie, are we safe here?"
Scarlett took her hand reassuringly.

“Got a job for you, Diesel. Something big.”

Diesel raised an eyebrow. “Big, huh? We like big.”

Atlas gestured for the rest of the Crew to step forward. Ivy hid behind Scarlett, too scared to look any of the biker crew in the eyes.

“This is about Ratropolis. The humans are digging again. We need a distraction to keep them off our tails while we figure out how to stop them.”

Diesel stroked his whiskers thoughtfully. “A distraction, huh? What kind of distraction?”

Atlas leaned in, his eyes gleaming. “I was thinking... a mural. Something massive. Something they can’t ignore.”

Diesel’s grin widened. “You’re speaking my language, Atlas.”

The plan was set in motion that night. The Rat Biker Crew revved their tiny motorbikes, the roar echoing through the tunnels as they prepared for the mission. Atlas rode at the front, his leather jacket flapping behind him. He had been a part of this crew once, a mascot, back when he was younger and wilder. Tonight, he was back where he belonged.

The construction site loomed ahead, bathed in the harsh glow of floodlights. Security guards patrolled the area, but they were no match for the speed and cunning of the Rat Biker Crew. The rats zipped through the shadows, their bikes leaving faint trails of smoke and sparks.

Once inside the site, Diesel and the others pulled out cans of spray paint. They worked quickly and silently, transforming the drab walls of the machinery sheds into a vibrant, defiant mural. The centerpiece was a massive depiction of a rat with glowing red eyes, standing triumphantly atop a pile of construction equipment. Surrounding it were images of bats, birds, and other creatures, all united in a show of strength.

Atlas climbed to the top of a crane, holding a spray can in his paw. He added the finishing touch: the words “Ratropolis Lives” in bold, dripping letters.

As the first rays of dawn broke, the Rat Biker Crew finished their masterpiece and vanished into the shadows. The humans arriving at the site were greeted by the mural, their jaws dropping in shock.

Back in The Burrow, the Rat Gang Crew gathered around Atlas as he recounted the night’s events. Amelie clapped her paws in excitement. “That’s amazing, Atlas! They’ll be talking about that for weeks.”

Scarlett smirked. “I’ve got to admit, that’s impressive. And risky.”

Atlas shrugged, his usual bravado on full display. “That’s the Biker Crew for you. No guts, no glory.”

Ivy pointed to the radio. “Listen!”

A human news broadcast crackled to life. The reporter’s voice was filled with awe and indignation. “Overnight, a stunning piece of graffiti appeared at the construction site, sparking outrage and admiration in equal measure. The protestors are calling it a symbol of resistance, while the company calls it vandalism. Either way, the mural has gone viral, bringing even more attention to the fight to save this land. Several art galleries are fighting over ownership of the artworks suggesting this mural could be worth millions to the artist but they do not know who did it."

Atlas leaned back, a smug grin on his face. “Sounds like mission accomplished to me.”

Amelie patted his shoulder. “You were amazing, Atlas. And so was the Biker Crew.”

As the Crew celebrated, Ivy looked down at her rubbings. The carvings seemed to pulse faintly, as if responding to the energy of their victory.

“The carvings,” she murmured. “They’re changing.”

Amelie leaned over. “What do you mean?”

Ivy pointed to a new symbol that had appeared, faint but unmistakable. It depicted a small rat standing proudly before a towering figure. “I think… it’s trying to tell us something.”

Scarlett’s tail flicked nervously. “Whatever it is, we’d better figure it out fast. The humans won’t give up that easily.”

Atlas nodded, his usual swagger replaced by a glint of determination. “Then we’ll just have to stay one step ahead. Ratropolis is not dead yet."